In The Shadow of Isildur:The Tale of Vorondomë
by Clair De La Lune
Summary: Many stories of the ring have been told...in male perspective...but never in female perspective...Vorondomë, the wife of Isildur tells a tale of love, war, grief, and corruption...
1. Prelude

Prelude

**Nothing is known of me...time has engulfed my whole existence...never to be acknowledged by future generations...never to be known or honored like my husband...Isildur, son of Elendil, High King of Gondor...I am Vorondomë an invisible young maiden, the daughter of Ëartáren, a mighty sailor from Osgiliath. Not one soul has ever heard the story of Sauron from mine eyes. Mostly all stories told of the Ring are from the male perspective and in those stories, the women a practically nonexistent. I wish for once to be known and recognized like my husband...for people to understand how hard the times had got and how my beloved husband became corrupt from the Ring. The story shows how war and greed changes many men and the tolls it takes on others. Brace yourself, for this is a very long story...**


	2. Isildur

Chapter 1 Isildur

Exactly where do I start? At the beginning of my life? No, because my childhood is of no importance to this story. At the beginning of my marriage? No, too far into the story. Oh yes, I have the perfect place, when I first met Isildur.

The day was young yet fair and there was not one cloud in the sky. The air smelled fresh with the aroma of the shards of grass and the muddy riverbank. The sun beat down hard on the earth that day and beneath it I felt awfully warm in my new gown. I was garbed in a new gown my mother, Lómeawen made for me for my sixteenth birthday, which was a cerulean blue gown trimmed with golden tassels. I even had my hair intricately braided by a servant that morning. Even though my father wasn't a noble, he was a famous shipbuilder throughout Gondor, and had an excellent reputation. We owned many servants and I even had a personal attendant, Nessamelda, who helped me prepare everyday.

My three elder sisters, Silmevendë, elder by five years, Isilmewen, elder by three years, and Calimárë, elder by a year, accompanied me. My three elder sisters were widely known for their beauty and their elegance. Silmevendë was the second tallest of us all with long hair as black as night, with a fair complexion, olive-colored eyes, and was the most elegant of us all. Isilmewen, the second eldest and shortest of us all, had long curly hazel brown hair that always seemed untamed and wild, forest green eyes, olive-colored skin, and was the wildest of all us. Calimárë, the third eldest had long straight birch colored hair, chestnut-colored eyes, olive-colored skin, and was the most ladylike of us all. I, of course was not what my sisters were. I was the only sister with wavy golden blond hair, the hair that my mother had, azure blue eyes that were very rare in Gondor, very fair skin, and was the tallest of all my sisters. Silmevendë detested me for being the tallest of us three and would never pay me complements like she did to my other sisters. That day, we were strolling through the market heading towards the millinery so we could purchase some new gowns. My father gave me more money because it was my birthday. That day, neither of my sisters singled me out like they usually did, for it was my birthday and all was merry. The number of young men there was many and all of my sisters and I, besides Silmevendë were single. Silmevendë was in love with an interesting merchant, Telepsecir and remained faithful to him.

"See her? She yearns for her beloved Telepsecir!" Isilmewen declared jokingly at an unusually quiet and solemn Silmevendë. Silmevendë did not care what Isilmewen thought or said because she was much too busy thinking of Telepsecir.

"Oh, Isilmewen, leave her alone! She has too much on her mind! Like mother, who is doing very poorly." Calimárë declared coming to Silmevendë's defense. Though her sisters were fighting over stupid things my mind was lingering on something else.

The next moment, everything happened so fast that I finally noticed what happened. I suddenly realized that I was lying on the ground looking up at a stranger. I looked around and noticed everyone around bowing in reverence. I finally noticed that the man I was glaring up at was the prince Isildur. I finally fainted in his arms.


	3. A Rapid Recovery

Chapter 2 A Rapid Recovery

Often times when I would be with my daughters, I would tell them of how I met their father. They would sit there, and listen to every word I told them, especially my eldest, Erulissë. I never tired of telling the story and they never tired of hearing it.

I soon enough recovered and found myself in my bed with two servants surrounding me. I had a bandage on my arm and my head. I thought Isildur was just a figure of my imagination and thought it a dream.

"What happened?" I demanded sitting up. The elder of the two servants glanced at me and replied, "You took a fall, miss."

"I did?" I responded as the younger of the two servants placed a tray on top of me with hot chowder and some mead.

"Yes, and when you took a fall, the prince helped you up. He is a handsome lad and he made sure that you were taken care of good." My mouth went dry and millions of questions plagued me. She continued, "The prince took quite a shine to you. I thought he would take a fancy to your elder sisters, but no, he seems to fancy you. He is to return later on this week." I immediately blushed and could not believe my ears, for this could not be real. _I never met the prince and he never acknowledged my existence. I must still be dreaming._ I thought taking a sip of the chowder.

"You can't be serious." Was all I could say. I did believe them and then I didn't. How could have my ears been deceiving me if I could still his hand supporting my head and his other supporting my back.

"But I am, for I saw him with mine own eyes." she retorted as she leaned against the banister of my canopy bed.

"Which prince?"

"Isildur, Elendilion." He was a favorite topic upon my sisters and they spoke often of Isildur and his brother Anárion. I cared not to talk about them as my sisters did. I cared to talk about real heroes such as the men that my father hired to build ships. I took a shine to one, Halbar, a man from the north who paid all his respects to Isilmewen. He even called her, "Galadrian," or Lady of Light. Whenever I spoke with him which was rarely, he spoke only of her, praising the way she did everything. Inside I felt torn apart and ignored and often times wept over him. In time my heart healed and I stayed away from the world of men, because I didn't want to get my heart broken.

Moments later, Silmevendë, Isilmewen, and Calimárë dashed into the room and smiled when they discovered that I was well.

"Oh dear Vorondomë, are you well?" Silmevendë inquired taking a seat on the chair beside my bed; my other sisters took a seat at the foot of my bed.

"Oh sister! Have I such news for you!" Isilmewen declared examining my head closely, "Halbar asked to court me and..."

"What said you?" I retorted immediately as my heart almost stopped.

"Of course I said yes. To a man such as that. He is perfect in everyway!" Isilmewen added thinking about him.

"Oh, Isilmewen, who cares of that? Vorondomë had an encounter with Prince Isildur, now that is a wonderful thing. Tell us of him." Silmevendë demanded grinning as if she had just got married.

"Was his skin soft as they say? And how did he smell? Did he smell of fresh water?" Calimárë interrogated with her eyes twinkling with excitement. My mind was plagued by enough questions and the questions they asked were even worse.

"I remember nothing of him. Not even the way he spoke." I simply responded.

"Oh that is a pity," Silmevendë proclaimed as a dull look stretched across her face then she beamed, "The prince took good care of you. He made sure that you were fit. He carried you in his arms and all three of us were still dumbstruck. He is to come by in a fortnight. To see if you are well. He fancies you I know."

"Silmevendë, he does not fancy me. There are many women at court who would easily beguile him. I bet you he cares nothing about me!" I exclaimed arising from bed. I slowly strode over to the window and gazed down at the sailors at port and the fashionable women. Osgiliath was a pleasant city but I wished to leave because the thought of a prince or even a noble taking an interest in me, frightened me.


	4. Dilemma

With spring soon to arrive, it was soon ordained that in all of the realm of Gondor there would be a great ball in celebration of spring's arrival and winter's end. I was quite content to learn that the Prince did in fact keep his appointment and the more time I spent with him, the more it was near impossible to detest him. What frightened me the most was just that. I couldn't bear the thought of giving my heart away to a man let alone the Prince. As innocent, foolish and naïve I was in nature…I was also a great deal coy. There were times when the prince would charm me with poems in exotic tongues and flatter me in countless ways but I would always blush then look away. At that very moment, a shy smile would take form on my face. We were in each other's presence for about three times a week and whenever we were, I was rendered speechless for fear I would utter something silly or rude. I was often referred to as sweet little Vorondomë that spoke her mind and was known for her supreme virtue and truthfulness.

The night before the grand ball soon arrived and as conversation was reduced to silent murmurs, I spoke with my mother. Mother smiled at me as she uttered a comment about Isildur and at that very moment, I desired nothing more than to scream because that was all that seemed to be on everyone's tongue those days. Isildur this and Isildur that… 

"Mama." I started, poking at the potatoes on my plate as she stared at me, her big blue almond-shaped eyes framed by delicate eyelashes, "I am not going to the ball." It was said simply and without any emotion. I had been her daughter for many years and she knew my nature better than anyone else. As she was acquainted with my nature, I was well acquainted with her own nature. She reached over the table, smiling reassuringly at me as she placed her hand over my hand. Though she was in her thirties, she still retained a youthful appearance and it seemed almost as if we both were sisters. At least one could glance at us and take a supposition that we were.

"Vorondomë, you have to go. The Prince will be most disconcerted if you refuse to attend. There are many young maidens frolicking around court. Do not think for once that they will not make any attempt at baiting the Prince like a fish." She whispered then withdrew her hand, "Why else do you think the Prince desires you so, my daughter? It is the fact that you do not try and attract him as the other women…noble and common…do. Though you may be the Prince's favorite, do not for once forget to exercise caution. Remember that there are those that would try and remove you. You are not a noble nor are you royalty. That immediately could condemn you in terms of matrimony." I blinked, for the first time having realized what she said. I never once thought of such things nor did I expect them. My mother was once a daughter to a farmer but after she met my father, she elevated her rank in the world to become a merchant's wife. How in the world would a Merchant's daughter become a queen? In no way did I desire to become a queen.

"I am still not going." I declared unrelenting, "The Prince can take favor in another young maiden because I care not to be a Queen. The people of the realm of Gondor would never even for a moment accept _me_ as their queen. I am a merchant's daughter!" My father overheard my remark and fixed me with a pointed glaring stare, his expression speaking for his silence.

Feeling a hint of defiance, I stared directly at him before exclaiming, "You heard me, father. I will not attend tomorrow night's ball. I'd rather you allow me to choose for myself. There are maidens aplenty for the Prince to choose from. He can forget about me." At that very instant, I arose from the table and stormed out of the room, hurrying to the privacy and sanctuary of my room. Nessamelda was perched upon a chair by the fire the moment I entered and arose immediately with an expression of surprise fixed on her heart-shaped face.

"Is anything the matter, my lady?" She demanded in her sweet voice, her head tilted ever so slightly. I closed the door and bolted it before staggering over to the fire and settling into a chair just before it. I sighed, resting the back of my head on the embroidered backing of the chair.

"Oh Nessa, everything is wrong." I frowned staring into her dark eyes then shook my head, "I cannot go to tomorrow's ball. I _will _not attend tomorrow's ball." As I stated the latter of the two sentences, my voice sounded a great deal firmer. Nessamelda's dark ringlets were bound yet some defiant strands of hair managed to break free and to dangle just in her eyes. She was already garbed in her night shift and appeared a great deal more comfortable I was in my red velvet gown.

"Why are you acting so silly?" She shook her head at me, "The Prince adores you yet you are quick to spurn him. He has spent almost every day with you just this last month. I've seen you day after day arriving at home with roses, bouquets of flowers and elegant little trinkets…yet you complain of him. Are you mad? You are the envy of every unmarried girl in all of Gondor. Did that thought ever cross your mind?" I knew deep down that every word that came out of her mouth was right but I refused to concede to what my parents and family expected of me. The thought of fleeing Osgiliath on my own had crossed my mind several times but I knew that I would fall prey to something horrid. I left Nessamelda in silence as I disrobed and replaced the red velvet gown with a night shift to sleep in. She remained sitting by the fire, staring into it with the red glow illuminating her face as she did so.

"Good night, Nessa." I mumbled, feeling miserable as I lowered my head onto my pillow. She turned her head to look at me, "Good night, my lady. May sweet dreams find you in your slumber." Shortly after her remark, she arose and began snuffing the many candles around the room then retired to her own. I was left in my own room to think over the predicament that I faced. That night I felt myself unable to fall under sleep's spell for my mind wandered and many questions plagued me. What am I to do? Should I run away and flee before my parents force me into a marriage? Where would I do? To the southern lands? To the northern lands? East or west? Is it possible to simply say 'no'? Only one thing mattered, I needed to do something fast before my greatest fear was manifested into reality.


End file.
